I know I keep people waiting for my comeback, and I repeatedly promise that I will get back in touch with them online and in real life. I always instantly fail at doing that and I am really sorry. I know this sounds like an excuse, but I still try to explain myself:
As already said, I have a job. And it takes a lot of energy from me. Doesn't help that my superior is essentially a condescending drama queen, who himself gets into lots of trouble with the chairman, which in turn endangers my position. If I had the choice I'd change immediately, but good jobs are scarce and it just took almost a year for me to get this one. And I really need the money, because I will move into my own flat, which needs lots of work (all walls and floors have to be renewed).
That isn't so much of a problem, albeit making me very tired and stressed out. But my health has been literally going down the shithole. I have such extreme troubles with my digestive system. It started rather benign 4 to 5 years ago with some occasional moments when I felt sick and thought it was due to my stomach being sensitive to some foods. But the last two years things got worse. And now, since circa one year I am in constant pain. I can't eat much, because I worry it will either give me cramps from constipation or diarrhoea (the switch happening so randomly I cannot assign any pattern to it).
The last months it's gotten really bad. You might have noticed, because I don't do much here. I don't feel like talking to anyone, I don't feel like going out (except for work). I don't have the power to draw as much as I want to. I have to force myself to work and then thinking at night "I hate it. I hate my supervisor and I hate my condition". That fucking pain taking all motivation and lifeforce from me.
And I am honest: it's my fault it came to be this way. Because I was too stupid and didn't visit a doctor. I was afraid, because I let my phobias and self loathing take control of my life. Because I am absolutely bad at looking after me and because I don't feel like I am worth it.
I also didn't want to go to anyone telling me, possibly, that I have cancer. I have seen my grandpa going through this shit for one year until last november, and it was extremely shocking and terrifying to see a usually vital man turn into a living corpse in front of your eyes. And it certainly did something to my already damaged psyche. I told myself, that I'd rather die quickly then go through that shit.
I was also afraid that I'd have to tell my mother. I know she would not take that well herself, battling with her own health problems. And I'd thought moving into a new home would be useless, if I am going to die anyway.
But at this point the pain and issues have become so bad I couldn't any longer hide it. People started to notice that I behaved differently and weren't satisfied with me negating their notion that I might be sick. The last week I finally gained some sense after the cramps made every bone in my body hurt. Two thoughts were constantly running in my head, apart from "when can I go home" during work hours: I both wished to die so that the pain stops and yet, at the same time, prayed I would not die (or that it wasn't anything bad). It's really strange, isn't it, that we humans sometimes seek death as the sole medicine for our suffering, yet also fear this fading into nothingness and non-existence. I constantly swinged between those extremes and it made me nuts.
So yeah, to finally end this dreadful, petty text that I am afraid reads "please pity me!" (no, don't do that. Thanks): I finally put things into motion. So far I have visited two doctors, but both can't find anything. More tests have to be done and will be done. I am afraid this will be the start of a long journey on which end, hopefully, isn't cancer (yeah, I am bloody afraid of that horrible shit. It makes me hypochondriac AND suicidal). I really hope that in the course of the next months it will become clearer what fucking shit I am suffering from. And at this point I don't even care if they stick some tubes through my asshole and mouth. Just make the pain stop or manageable.
No idea if or when I will get better. And I know that I may be exaggerating and maybe it's not so bad after all… but if I end up dying I will let you know. Those, who will still read this angsty journal anyway. But I think you peeps, who were so nice to communicate with me online deserve to be in the know. I could have written to you personally, but I feel much better after writing this down here on the publicly. Maybe because I also fear that these entries might be the last things I will leave behind in this world (yes, exaggerating again).
So yeah… we'll see us. Hopefully.